It was a sound plan for a project close to his heart and he’d do anything to make it happen, including lock horns with a recalcitrant woman who intrigued him as much as she infuriated him.
‘Hey, Hudson, what are you doing here on a Sunday?’ Stella Quincy, the manager he’d installed to run the place, appeared out of nowhere. It was a gift, her ability to materialise, and he wondered how many kids she’d sprung doing stuff they shouldn’t.
‘I was in the neighbourhood, thought I’d drop by.’
‘Uh-huh.’ She had her hands cupped around a mug of steaming coffee. ‘So what are you really doing here?’
‘You’re too perceptive for your own good,’ he muttered, earning a smug grin.
‘You forget who I deal with on a daily basis here. I’m used to seeing right through flimsy excuses.’
‘Flimsy, huh?’ He faked a frown. ‘I’ll have you know my excuses work fine most days.’
‘Have it your way.’ She shrugged, like his reason for stopping by was of little consequence. ‘But you’ll blab like the kids usually do before you leave.’
He laughed, eternally grateful Stella had agreed to work on his project from the start. They’d first crossed paths twenty years earlier, when one of the teachers had called her in with concerns about his home arrangements. It had taken the wily social worker all of five minutes to figure he was living out of a car with his mum, and she’d made it her mission to find emergency accommodation for them. Within a month Stella had helped Joanna apply for a new job and had become his guardian angel. Pity it had been too late for his mother, who succumbed to pneumonia the week they moved into their emergency accommodation.
He owed Stella, big time, and he’d been rapt when she agreed to run this housing development.
‘How many do we have on the waiting list?’
Stella smirked. ‘Changing the subject will get you nowhere. But in answer to your question, fifteen.’
His heart sank. Getting kids to approach them in search of accommodation was a tough sell in the first place. Many had a healthy mistrust of adults; most were terrified of being sucked into a system that had failed them in the past. That’s why Stella was worth her weight in gold, because she’d been a recognised figure on the streets for several decades and kids trusted her. Hell, he had after a little convincing and it had been the best decision he ever made. If he hadn’t met Stella, he never would’ve met Isaac Fields, the man who’d given him a start in real estate, who’d bestowed his agency to him in his will.
All these years later, he still couldn’t fathom his luck. Inheriting Isaac’s agency had given him a big break and he wouldn’t be where he was today without that initial kickstart. Isaac’s belief in him ensured Hudson worked longer and harder than anyone else because he felt like he owed his mentor—and seeing Grenville Sanctuary flourish was his way of repaying Isaac’s faith in him.
That’s what had irked him about Karlana’s judgement when they’d first met, because while hehadbeen given his first agency, he’d worked damn hard to make it successful. He saw businesses fail on a daily basis and he didn’t want to run the risk of losing everything, especially when Isaac had entrusted him with his agency when not many would have. That’s what drove him to this day—he always paid his dues—and having Grenville Sanctuary flourish meant he could give to those needy kids who deserved it, like Isaac once had.
‘Uh-oh. You’ve got that look on your face,’ Stella said, appraising him through narrowed eyes.
‘What look’s that?’
‘When I got you into that grotty flat after you’d been living in Joanna’s car you looked like I’d handed you the keys to the Taj Mahal; it’s a look that screamed while you were grateful, you’d make it your personal mission to ensure you didn’t settle for anything less than something bigger and better.’
He shrugged, disconcerted that after all this time Stella could still read him so easily. ‘I’m driven. Nothing wrong with that.’
‘I didn’t say there’s anything wrong with it, I just worry for the poor person you’ve set your sights on. Another agency to take over?’ ‘Something like that,’ he said, knowing Stella wouldn’t buy his nonchalance but not willing to divulge his plans for expanding into eastern Victoria just yet. ‘How about I buy you a vanilla slice from the local bakery to go with that coffee?’
‘Bribery won’t distract me.’ Her mouth kicked into a grin. ‘But with a vanilla slice, you can try.’
He chuckled. ‘Be back in a sec. Do you need anything else while I’m there?’
She understood what he was asking. With a supermarket and hardware store bracketing the bakery a block from the housing development, he often bought necessities along with treats for the kids. Stella had given up chastising him after the first time, because he told her to back off in no uncertain terms before revealing why it meant so much to him. She understood. While she may have changed his housing situation when he was younger, he hadn’t told her the extent of his degradation but she’d read between the lines. Providing for these kids was his way of giving them hope, something Stella had once given him.
‘There’s a new kid who’s got a wicked sweet tooth, so maybe a bag of meringues they can all decorate their ice-creams with tonight?’
‘No worries,’ he said, giving her a half-salute as he headed back to the street. He’d done this walk between the development and the shops countless times over the last year since the place opened. He tried to visit at least once a week, on the pretext of admin initially, but he’d soon given up the pretence. Stella saw right through him. She knew he cared, more than was probably good for him.
He was careful to dress down when he visited, knowing the kids wouldn’t trust some hotshot in a suit, so he wore his oldest faded jeans, ripped at the knees through hard work on his pergola at home rather than artfully torn by a designer, a T-shirt and a hoodie. Casual. Inconspicuous. He didn’t want to stand out here; he wanted the kids to know he used to be one of them.
He’d tried to run a weekly support group at the start, to gain their trust and prove they could trust Stella. To do that, he’d opened up about his background, but kids who’d done it tough for a long time weren’t interested in hearing some adult—who probably reeked of money despite the clothes he wore—telling them a story about the past. Attendance had been low to start with during the first session and when he turned up the next week there’d only been two girls, one of whom had tried to proposition him. After that, he’d backed off and left Stella to it, but it didn’t stop him wanting to contribute as much as he could beyond financial backing.
He hated having a waiting list of kids wanting to live in the development and that meant expansion and the backing of investors.
The sooner he acquired Acacia Haven Agency, solidified his portfolio of agencies in eastern Victoria, and got more money for these kids, the better.
CHAPTER